(Baby) It's Cold Outside
by Artho
Summary: On a snowy night two strangers meet in Central Park... For all the fluffy klaine lovers out there :) My first one-shot (but it could lead to more...)


**(Baby) It's Cold Outside.**

The snowflakes fall gently between the branches of the trees and land on a thick layer of white snow. The evening is clear and everything seems to sparkle in an almost-silence. You've been standing here for 10 minutes. You've been standing here, unable to move for the last 10 minutes. Your cup of latte has stopped warming your hands long ago, but you can't move an inch, not even to reach for your gloves in your pocket. You'd rather freeze to death than risk being deprived of this moment. You do think you're being ridiculous because nothing would actually happen if you reached into your pocket for your gloves. You're not standing in front of an animal that'll disappear if you make any noise or movement. And yet...You can barely let yourself blink.

What sparkles the most in this moment is his smile. You've never seen someone smiling like that while singing. He doesn't actually have the most beautiful voice you've heard, but it's something else, something special. His voice is filled with passion and honesty. You have no idea how a voice can be honest, all you know is that his voice is the most honest and raw of all. His eyes are closed and he sings his heart out.

You can barely hear or see the kids who are a few meters behind him making snowmen and laughing while throwing snowballs at each other. They're just this blurry background behind this sharp image in front of you. You are mesmerized by this boy.

He opens his eyes and you realize you were wrong. His smile is not what sparkles the most. His eyes are. As he opens his eyes and his smile broadens. He tilts his head lightly and looks right into your eyes. You can't look away from those golden syrup eyes. Your brain and body seem to have lost all their functions. The only thought going through your mind is that this is the most intimate thing that has ever happened to you.

You feel like you should do or say something, maybe clap or at least smile back, but the cold seems to have turned you into an ice statue.

He has stopped playing and keeps looking at you with a little smile. Suddenly his lips are moving

« You should wear the gloves that are hanging out of your pocket; it's really chilly tonight... »

Why are your brain and mouth disconnected? A little « um... ? » manages to escape from your lips.

« Your gloves? Right there? »

He takes a step forward while pointing to your pocket. He's close enough for you to feel rude to stare at him the way you are. He lets out a little laugh and you come back to your senses for a few seconds.

« My gloves. Right. Yes. My gloves are warm. Would you like them ? »

His face scrunches for a slight second before smiling again.

« I'm not homeless, you know. I do have gloves at home, it's just not very convenient to play guitar with gloves on. »

He winks at you.

You are a complete idiot.

« Noooo, I'm so sorry. I wasn't implying that you were homeless! I don't even know why I said that ! I guess I wanted your fingers to be warm too right now. »

You couldn't be redder if you had stayed in the sun for 12 hours.

« Well thank you, but I was planning on warming up at the café down the street. Care to join me ? »

You gulp a bit too loudly. You're not sure if you heard that last bit right. There's no way he hasn't seen that you're holding a cup of coffee if he has noticed that you're not wearing your gloves. You're holding your cup very awkwardly now. He seems to notice it too.

« Sorry! What an idiot. I just realized that I'm a creepy stranger playing guitar in a park and you just come from the coffee house anyway. You just seemed to be cold yourself.»

You realize it's the first time he looks slightly uncomfortable but you nod fervently.

« Yes! I mean no, you're not creepy ! But yes, I am freezing ! I'd love to join you for a warm cup of coffee. » You nod at the cup in your hand « Especially since my hot latte turned into an iced latte. »

« Excellent!»

Excellent indeed. You wonder for a few seconds if you're going to wake up. Since when do things like this happen in real life? Since when do things like this happen in _your_ life?

He orders two cookies, a Viennese hot chocolate and asks what you'd like to drink. But before you have time to reach into your wallet, he hands a few dollar bills to the barista and shakes his head slightly.

« Don't even bother, silly. » He turns back to the cashier, « keep the change. »

What planet does this boy come from ? Why do you feel like such an idiot and why do you keep staring at him as if he couldn't see you ?

He takes the tray to a table in a cozy corner and you sit opposite him.

« There you go. » He places neatly your grande nonfat mocha and a cookie on a napkin in front of you.

You blush and mumble, « thank you » because what else could you say? "Marry me?". The coffee house is empty, but it's warm and intimate. Some soft music is playing in the background. He takes off his scarf and his beanie, folds them carefully and places them on the chair next to him. He's even more beautiful now. He has tamed, black curls that stand out with his thick well-groomed eyebrows. He has dark skin and a two-day stubble, but you can still outline his perfect jawline. He's dapper and dreamy and you better get back to your senses.

« You're very talented. » You're both a bit surprised by the way you blurted out that statement.

« Why, thank you! »

« You're so passionate and perfect when you sing, you were really living and owning those lyrics! »

You must be out of your mind. Did you just tell that stranger that he was _perfect _? Well, perfect when he sang, but still...

You probably creeped him out this time but his face doesn't show it. In fact, you could almost think that he's blushing, but it's certainly due to the sudden warm temperature of the room compared to the cold that surrounded you a few minutes ago. You're probably scarlet yourself.

"Wow, thanks a lot! Some of them _are_ actually my lyrics." His cheeks are definitely more pink this time. You wonder if it's still too early to ask him to marry you.

You end up talking for hours until the coffee shop closes. You feel bold and crazy and it feels amazing. You both talk about your interests, your dreams and wishes. You talk about music and movies. You laugh about childhood memories. You laugh about your quirkiness. You laugh about everything and you share too many details to this person you've just met. But everything feels natural and familiar.

You don't talk about love. You don't ask if he's single and neither does he. You think about it though. You think about it a lot. You think about the lyrics that he sang. You think about things that you shouldn't think about. You're jealous of the cookie he dunks in his hot chocolate. You wish you _were_ that cookie. You wish you knew how his hands felt on you. You wish you knew how his lips tasted.

You are fascinated by this incredibly exciting human being. He's the most adorable, charismatic, funny and interesting boy you have ever met and you're terrified that he's going to slip out of your life after tonight. You spend the entire evening hoping that he'll ask to meet you again. But you keep in mind that this might be a regular Friday evening to him. You keep in mind that you're just two strangers who were cold and went in a coffee house to get warm.

You're both standing outside the coffee house. The streets are empty and the snow has not stopped falling. Everything is covered by a beautiful, white and immaculate coat of snow. It's so peaceful that you stand next to each other without uttering a word. You're thinking about how special it feels to print your steps in fresh snow. Then with a smile, you reach into your pocket. He feels the movement and holds your arm still.

"Wait...before you put your gloves on...and you really should, could I maybe..." He looks down sheepishly '...Get your phone number?"

You try your best to retain your sigh of relief. You nod with a huge grin on your face. He hands you his phone for you to put in your number. When you give it back to him, his grin matches yours. He looks down at his phone and says aloud.

"Kurt Hummel, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Blaine Anderson."


End file.
